Seriously? M7 ATF AU
by senorabutterfly
Summary: Just a short piece of action (sort-of), lol. The boys just keep having troubles at those charity functions!


Seriously? Mag 7 ATF AU

The seven ATF agents exited the convention center and headed toward their vehicles in a loose group. Dressed in dark formalwear, they looked unlike their usual selves and several were already loosening their ties and unfastening the top buttons of their immaculate white shirts as they strolled across the parking area, chatting among themselves.

Mrs. Travis had guilted the team into coming to one of her charity functions, and while happy to help out those less fortunate, the majority of the men weren't big fans of donning 'monkey suits' as the sandy-haired sniper put it.

Vin was one of the first to tug off the tight tie and loosen his collar. For some reason, the neckwear always made him feel like he was in the confines of a hangman's noose.

The group were discussing the evening and cracking jokes at each other's expense when Chris and Vin noticed a couple of young men in gray hoodies walking rather nervously toward them. The rest quickly picked up on where their leader and sharpshooter were looking.

Appearing quite jumpy, the two twenty-somethings were peering around in a suspicious manner as they approached the seven. Larabee, Tanner, and Standish moved their hands unobtrusively to their backs, near the pistols secreted under their dress jackets. JD and Buck both bent to loosen the small backup guns they wore in ankle holsters. Josiah and Nathan were both unarmed at the moment, trusting their ever-vigilant companions to handle any gunplay necessary. However, anyone who thought the well-muscled profiler and medic weren't dangerous because they didn't have weapons on them was either stupid or naïve. Both could break a man's back with their bare hands.

Apparently the approaching duo didn't have sense enough to register that something was off about their quarry, though. Either that or they were so high that they just didn't care.

Chris made a minute gesture with his hand and the seven agents stopped and spread out, giving the ones with guns room to maneuver. Sanchez and Jackson anchored the ends, prepared to stiff-arm either young man who tried to detour past the group.

The pair still didn't seem to notice that the guys in front of them were taking a defensive posture. The team was silent as they waited to see what the two figures would do.

When they were within a few yards, the taller of the pair pulled a snub-nosed .38 and pointed it at the seven elegantly dressed men in front of him. His companion did the same, gun shaking slightly as he tried to wave it menacingly. The seven forms just stood staring back, several shaking their heads.

"Hand over your wallets and jewelry and no one gets hurt!" said the one who drew his pistol first. He was trying to sound threatening, but only managed to sound a bit ridiculous with the clichéd statement.

The tall brunet with the mustache rose from where he'd been bending over. A disbelieving shake of his head prefaced his reply.

"Seriously? You boys are gonna try to rob people at this event? You must be dumb as a box of rocks."

The second of the two answered in confusion. "Well, yeah! I mean, the folks that come to these things are all rich, right?" The .38 pointed vaguely in the direction of the chestnut-haired man in the middle of the group. "I mean, look at that watch he's wearin'! Y'all gotta be loaded."

JD snickered at the phrasing as he too stood back up. "Oh, we're loaded alright!"

The leader of the would-be thieves was suddenly getting a feeling that something wasn't quite right. "What do you mean 'at this event'?"

Ezra gave the befuddled young man a patronizing glance.

"One would think someone planning to relieve prospective victims of their goods would at least have the common sense to research who they were threatenin'. Mr. Wilmington would appear to be correct…you two apparently do not have the intelligence of the pavement we are standin' on."

Both of the robbers now just looked befuddled. "Huh?"

Vin decided to be helpful. "What he's sayin' is, you boys shoulda checked to see who you were gonna be wavin' guns at before ya made this plan to try to rob a group of law enforcement members."

Suddenly a light bulb went on in the dim recesses of the taller thief's foggy brain.

"Law enforcement? Ya mean like cops?"

Five pistols materialized in rock-steady hands.

"Yes, like cops you imbecile." answered the man with the watch, disgust dripping from the honeyed Southern accent.

The robbers' eyes got huge as they took in the guns pointed at them.

The chestnut-haired man appeared to be almost bored as he aimed his weapon at the leader of the duo.

"Gentleman, would any of you care to place a wager on how long it will take our would-be muggers to bleed out should they get shot?"

The two brunets happily began throwing out guesses, muzzles never wavering from the thieves.

The big African-American started reciting medical facts about how much blood a body could lose before the organs went into failure. His older partner just stood popping his knuckles with a big, toothy grin of anticipation on his face.

"Personally, I hope you boys hit 'em somewhere non-lethal so I can have a crack at 'em." rumbled the deep voice serenely.

The sandy-haired fellow had a grin on his face, too. "I got 'em if they try ta make a run for it, Chris. Should I just wing 'em so we can arrest 'em, or go ahead and save the taxpayers some money on a trail?"

A feral grin curved up the lips of the dangerous-looking blond. "Hell, I don't care, Vin. Deadly force creates a lot of paperwork, but I'm inclined to think somebody dumb enough to try to rob federal agents at an event for law enforcement oughta just be put out of their misery."

Panic suddenly entered the eyes of the two young men. The blonde's gun was pointed at the first robber's head, and his grip was rock-steady.

Chris saw the boys trying to decide whether to fight or flee.

"You might want to consider that I haven't shot anyone all week, and I'm startin' to have withdrawal symptoms…"

The thief's hand twitched like he might squeeze the trigger anyway.

"Mister, Chris is a hell of a shot at any time, and at six yards there ain't no way he's gonna miss." advised Vin as he watched the perps' eyes, his own gun trained on the second robber.

"Ya better listen to him, Son. Unless you want your gray matter splattered all over this parking lot like one of them modern paintin's, I'd put the gun down." added Buck with a sage nod.

Silence reigned for a few seconds as things seemed to freeze into a standoff. The fog that surrounded the wanna-be muggers' brains had cleared with the fear however, and after a minute the seven could see that the pair had accepted reality. They waited for the duo to drop their weapons so they could take them into custody.

Unfortunately, while they might have figured out that a gunfight wasn't to their advantage, the two robbers hadn't made it to the sensible conclusion that they should surrender. Instead of throwing away their weapons, they each took off across the pavement.

Chris and Ezra each adjusted their aim and took down the taller of the fleeing figures with shots to the leg, while Vin and JD sprinted after the other. Buck went to guard the writhing one who was down as a sea of law enforcement personnel boiled out of the convention center at the sound of the gunshots.

Tanner and Dunne tackled the still running perp and took him to the ground, JD sitting on him while Vin retrieved the small .38 where it had skittered several feet away.

When the two suspects were subdued, a round of applause broke out from the watching agents and police members. Two of the local cops took charge of the battered thieves, calling an ambulance and a squad car for transport.

Vin limped up, accompanied by JD, who was holding his arm. Buck wandered back to the group, walking a little stiffly. Nathan went into immediate mother hen mode.

"What happened to you three? You hurt?"

Tanner tried to wave the medic off. "Just hit my knee when we landed. I'll be fine, Nate."

"And I twisted my wrist, but an ice pack should fix it up. It's fine, really!" added Dunne as he tried to avoid the healer's prodding fingers.

Buck put up both hands to fend Jackson off when the other man headed his way. "Just back off, Nathan. What that squirming' punk hit on me ain't somethin' I want you puttin' your hands on! It'll be fine in a few hours."

"Fine!" said Jackson, parroting his team members' comments and throwing up his hands. "To hear y'all tell it, ain't never anythin' wrong with ya, even if body parts are hangin' off. Just don't come to me when your knee, wrist…or other parts…start swellin' up!" groused the medic.

Chris looked around at the somewhat battered members of his team.

"Great! Like the tuxes aren't bad enough, now we're gonna have to start wearin' body armor to these damn things!"

By DMA


End file.
